


Aliens Made Them Do It

by agent_florida



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Crack Pairing, Dubious Consent, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-21
Updated: 2010-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_florida/pseuds/agent_florida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason why the clichés are classic. So how about a sci-fi staple?</p><p>Aliens make them do it. Just two or three-some or a whole cast orgy. </p><p>Think of the awesome kink possibilitys!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aliens Made Them Do It

“Dude.”  
  
Tucker stopped and stared at the six dead bodies piled behind the rock formation. What the fuck was going on here? He knew this place wasn’t right, but he had been stationed here for a reason, hadn’t he?  
  
Then he heard the honking and blarging of a group of aliens nearby and felt a chill go up his spine. Fucking aliens. He thought he’d be able to go the rest of his life without seeing one again (his kid didn’t count, the thing was half-human, wasn’t it?). No such luck, apparently. There was somebody with them, too, with a voice that smacked of self-importance. As he rounded the corner, he saw them standing in a shady bunker, shielded from the worst of the desert’s heat.  
  
The one human of the bunch was wearing brown armor with silver shoulder plates, and he had a specialized helmet. What the fuck? Nobody he knew had a specialized helmet like that. Who the fuck was this guy? But whoever it was, it’s not like he could threaten him with the sword. If the aliens caught him with that, who knew what would happen to him this time? So he sheathed it, brought out his battle rifle, and crept closer to hear what the guy was saying. “Smith, Wesson, start searching the bunkers. Jones, Gunderson, take a vehicle and do a sweep of the perimeter. The rest of you, start breaking things. I don’t want them to know we’re here.”  
  
Time for him to step out of the shadows. “What the fuck are you doing here?”  
  
Too soon. All the aliens turned around to look at him, making ‘wort’ noises as they stared, and the new guy just gave him a once-over. “Who the hell are you?”  
  
“My name’s Tucker. I was moved here more than a year ago with that research crew. You know, the guys you killed.”  
  
The guy gave him a once-over. “Shoulda killed you too, by the looks of it.”  
  
But the honks and blargs of the aliens started to drown out whatever the stranger was going to say next, and Tucker smirked from inside his helmet. “I don’t think the aliens would like it too much if you did.”  
  
“Would you shut up!” the stranger yelled, and the aliens obediently fell silent.  
  
Tucker took his helmet off as he surveyed the stranger. In retrospect, he didn’t know why he had; it left him vulnerable to pretty much everything in this harsh desert environment. But it felt stuffy, and getting a breath of fresh air felt good. “So who the fuck are you?”  
  
The stranger followed suit, stripping off his helmet. Below it was a man with medium-toned skin. His brown hair was cropped close, and his eyes were too squinty for Tucker to tell the color. “Doesn’t much seem to matter, does it?”  
  
The aliens had begun making noise again, and this time, Tucker felt a familiar clenching in his gut. What the fuck was going on here? The last time he had felt like this, he had ended up with a half-alien dogbaby. His hands didn’t seem to be under his control as he snapped off the chestpiece of his armor. “What the fuck, dude? Tell the aliens to cut it out.”  
  
But the stranger seemed to be feeling the pressure as much as Tucker was, his own shaking hands mirroring Tucker’s actions. “Cut what out?”  
  
He didn’t know, Tucker realized. He didn’t understand what was about to happen. “They’re doing some pheromone shit,” he said as he started shucking off the armor covering his arm and shoulder.  
  
“The hell? Is that why I can’t control my hands?” The stranger’s eyes flicked to his alien buddies, but they were just standing there, their sick jaws set in smiles.

“I don’t know. I was unconscious the last time this happened.” Now the other arm’s armor was being peeled away, and suddenly he was left with nothing but his bodysuit covering his torso.

“The last time?” It was eerie how robotic the stranger looked as he peeled off his own armor.

“Yeah. One of these guys,” and he twitched his head to the aliens, “knocked me up with his parasitic embryo baby.” He felt an uncomfortable heat rising in his chest, the onset of a powerful wave of desire, and he knew he didn’t have long to explain to this guy what was about to happen to them.

“That doesn’t seem physically possible…” He trailed off, snapping off the plates on his feet just like Tucker was, and when he stopped talking, Tucker knew they were both sunk.

They took the rest of their plating off in silence, surveying each other carefully. With each piece of armor that the stranger took off, Tucker could see more and more of his body. It was fit beneath the stretch fabric of his black bodysuit, and he started to wonder if the rest of his skin would be as browned as the skin of his face. His last thought as himself was that this was going to be so, so gay before he felt himself completely subsumed by whatever the aliens were doing to them.

And as he lost his conscious thought, he stepped closer to the other man, reaching out to first catch his face in his hand, then pull his lips towards his own. Soon their mouths were busy kissing, tongues touching, teeth slipping, the stranger’s hand slipping into Tucker’s dreads as Tucker’s gloved fingers reached down to undo the other man’s codpiece. The stranger was already hard, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric of his suit, and Tucker couldn’t help his fingers as they swiped along it.

For his part, the stranger was undoing Tucker’s bodysuit, the rough patterns on his gloves exciting the sensitive skin on Tucker’s back as he pulled the suit apart. The other man’s face had stubble, but Tucker found himself liking the abrasive feel of it on his face as their mouths met again and again, magnetized together by forces completely out of their control. Then Tucker’s own pelvic plating was being undone, and his bodysuit came down around his thighs with nothing to support it.

The stranger was handling the alien pheromones worse than Tucker was, because once Tucker’s cock was out and bobbing in the heated desert air, the other man kneeled in front of him, taking it into his mouth immediately. Tucker groaned and tried to get a grip on the man’s hair, but it, too, was mostly stubble, the roughness of it threatening to leave a burn on his palms. He closed his eyes, trying to pretend that the wet, warm mouth just belonged to a really, really butch girl who was coincidentally really, really good at sucking dick, but nestled in the back of his mind, right next to the part that was playing a cheesy porn soundtrack on repeat, was the part that was screaming  _this is so gay this is so gay this is so gay this is so gay._ Why did this shit always keep happening to him? And why did he keep enjoying it so fucking much?

He needed more than that if he was going to make this worth his while, though, and so he pulled the stranger’s head off of him by the ears. A brief moment of eye contact (grey, Tucker noted – not like it mattered right this second) felt like a sizzle of electricity had just gone up his spine. It wasn’t going to stop here; the aliens were going to make them fuck.

The stranger set to work peeling the rest of Tucker’s bodysuit from him, and while he did, Tucker reached down to find the seam on the stranger’s bodysuit that would allow him to strip the other man. In a few moments, he was kicking his suit off of his feet as the stranger stripped himself, and then they were looking one another in the eye, not quite sure of what to do.

Tucker had a short moment to look over the other man’s body – fit, with healthy brown skin, a soldier’s body – and feel vaguely self-conscious over his own skinny frame before his mouth was occupied again, sloppy kisses taking up all his attention. His hands seemed to wander around the other man’s body without much purpose or motivation, maybe because he wasn’t controlling them. At this point, fake pheromones or not, he needed a quick fuck or he felt like he was going to explode. It had been too long since Blood Gulch, too long with just his hand to keep him company, and he deserved better, even if it was a one-off hatefuck with a complete stranger while they were under the influence.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the aliens were still watching them as the stranger pushed his body down to the ground. He landed on his own discarded bodysuit, but his arms could still feel the abrasive sand that was kicking up around them. He had time to see only a quick blur before the other man’s body was on top of his, their chests pressing together, bodies slick with sweat and sliding against one another as Tucker’s legs were pushed into the air.

No, no,  _fuck no_ , but it didn’t seem like he had a choice as the other man’s pelvis inched closer to his. Maybe these aliens had self-lubricating assholes, but humans didn’t, and Tucker screwed his eyes shut, not wanting to watch as the other man’s substantial cock came closer and closer to violating him. For a few moments, nothing. That was odd; he had been so convinced that the stranger had been ready to fuck him.

But when he opened his eyes again, he saw that their hips were already flush. Why hadn’t he been able to feel it? But then the stranger thrust against him again, and he could feel the pressure from inside him, gradual at first, then more intense as the sex wore on. The pheromones had a numbing agent? None of this made sense, and soon none of it mattered, because as the numbness wore off, the pleasure ( _pleasure?_ ) he was getting from this increased. Soon he was panting as he gripped onto the stranger’s arms, letting out a moan, and then another, as he got the feeling back.

In no time at all, he was moaning with every breath, feeling nothing but the pleasure as he was fucked like never before He didn’t want to think too hard on where this stranger had learned to fuck like this, and he wasn’t particularly disposed to, turning more to feel than to thought as every one of the stranger’s strokes hit against something in him that made him want to scream. And he did, getting closer, closer,  _closer, yes, there, yes,_  and then he was blinded by the desert sun, deafened by the wind in his ears, nothing but sensation taking over every part of his body as he came harder than he had in ages. The stranger wasn’t quite done yet, but he would be soon, judging by the look on his face and the ferocity of his movements, and then there it was, a grunt and a stillness inside Tucker as the stranger jizzed inside him.

And then there were those awkward moments as they both tried to catch their breath, looking into one another’s faces, wondering what the fuck it was that had just happened to them, lying locked together ass-naked in the desert in front of a circle of aliens. It was embarrassing, is what it was, and if the stranger had a flushed face, Tucker was sure he was blushing too.

“The hell did you do to us?” the guy was screaming at his pals as he pushed himself off of Tucker. “I didn’t hire you to force me to have sex with some peon!”

“Not cool, dudes,” Tucker agreed, pushing himself off the ground so he could start shimmying back into clothes. Fucking someone whose name he didn’t even know? Wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it had never been hatesex fueled by alien pheromones, either.

The aliens were doing something that sounded almost like laughter, and the stranger was becoming even more apoplectic as he rushed to put his armor back on correctly. “We’ll see who’s laughing when I shoot each and every one of you,” he muttered, disguising his voice so the aliens wouldn’t be able to understand him.

At least by now, Tucker had been able to pull his bodysuit halfway on, covering most of his nakedness yet still doing nothing for his shame. “Dude, if you get me pregnant, it’s gonna be me shooting you.”

“That doesn’t seem physically possible,” the stranger said for the second time.

“Trust me, I know.” He rolled his eyes as he sealed his bodysuit, then started snapping his armor on at random.

“Get the hell out of my sight.” The other man was almost fully put together by now, holding his helmet in his hands as he squinted at Tucker.

“You could at least tell me your name, you fuckstick.” Thankfully, the sword was still on his thigh plating; he would have felt defenseless without it.

“CT.” He jammed the helmet back on his head, then leveled his gun at Tucker. “Now move.”

“The fuck? That’s not even a real name.” And why the fuck was he here anyway? But when the butt of CT’s rifle came to hit him in the face, the last thought before he lost consciousness was that it didn’t matter anyway, since Tucker was going to be staying the fuck away from him from now on.

When he came to, he was in an alleyway between two bunkers, broken equipment and vehicles all around him. “Unh… what happened?” he groaned, but no one was there to answer him. The sole working radio was squealing to itself as it picked up static, and it looked to Tucker like it was broadcasting to Command – whatever that was. “Hello! Come in, Command!” he yelled into it, hoping somebody was there who could get him the fuck out of here. “Do you read, Command? Why isn’t anyone answering?”

After a few minutes, a voice that sounded vaguely familiar to him got on the other line. “Um, hello, uh, this is Command, go ahead.”

“ _Finally,_ ” he sighed. “Hey! This is a distress call. We need help down here ASAP! Mayday, and all that shit.” Well, help for him, at least. CT was going to have a whole ‘nother thing coming to him…


End file.
